


I've made a rash decision

by TreeOfTime



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: "friends", Brienne is just a normal human with a friend who is a god, F/M, Friends to Lovers, God!Jaime, Haha right, Jaime is The Warrior, Mortal!Brienne, Tyrion is The Crone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreeOfTime/pseuds/TreeOfTime
Summary: Jaime is The Warrior, having earned his title through valor and honor as a human who perished in battle, centuries have passed by him and being a god is not as glorious or wonderful as he once thought. Only Tyrion, The Crone, was his true companion. That is, until he has an ugly little girl staring down his statue asking for his blessing, his protection to become a warrior.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 30
Kudos: 175
Collections: Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange 2020





	1. What have I done?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JailynnW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JailynnW/gifts).



> Much more to come, please enjoy and please be patient with me as I write more and bury myself six feet deep with my top pairing. JailynnW, I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think? I know you said mythological and I guess I kind of twisted it into something I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> _Goes back to screaming into my grad school work_

The day that The Warrior saw the ugliest little girl in the The Seven’s temple was the day his life changed. Of course, The Warrior would never admit that to himself or anyone else till his dying breath as that would be an embarrassment. Of course, he could not die unless he turned into mortal form by giving up his godhood and that was not going to happen. Jaime liked his power, liked the godhood that he had earned through hundreds of battles. He had been a champion, many centuries ago who was loved and admired by many. They had called him The Golden Lion. For his gold hair and his fierceness in battle. Finally, one day, he had fallen in battle, serving his past king with his entire heart. The gods are been so impressed with him they had given him the precious gift of godhood so he may forever be remembered and admired.

What a load of horse shit.

All he was now, in all of this time, was The Warrior. Forgotten and with no face by his worshippers. Everyone he cared for was gone, his family wiped out centuries ago and all he could do was watch it happen. It had been agonizing to view while the other gods around him had either laughed or mourned with him in their own ways. Tyrion, The Crone, had given him a bottle of strong ambrosia so they could watch the destruction together but wept quietly for his once proud family. Cersei, The Maiden, had laughed cruelly in his face and gloated during his aching hangover. After that, he did not have anything to do with The Maiden, as she tried to seduce him when he once had been interested, her laughter haunted him in his dreams to this day. The others had quietly mourned for him but had become disinterested in the lives of humans or any personal connections they once had.

The Crone and The Warrior were the only ones who remained interested truly in humans. Tyrion, for one, enjoyed when everyone thought he was some old woman with a crooked back instead of a small man. He liked to play pranks but also use his lantern to guide their way towards the future, to knowledge, to further battle strategies. Jaime… Jaime did not have much to do with any humans now, sure some caught his interest and bestowed blessings upon them but only to see them become self-centered, egotistical bastards. Jaime did not enjoy them when they became that way, and so, when they thought they were at their highest moment in battle, he ripped his blessing right from under them and every single time? They failed. They failed because they became too dependent on his blessing instead of using it to become the champions they were supposed to be.

How disappointing.

Jaime in the past century had stopped giving blessings or choosing a champion, some of the others did, but only usually to be cruel to others or to get what they wanted. Which was usually more power, instead of being kind, just, or to spread the love they self-proclaimed they were the representation of.

He was metaphorically looking at Cersei when he had that thought.

The reason why the ugly little girl caught was his attention in the small pathetic temple in Tarth, a miniscule pathetic island known only for its waters, was the little girl who didn’t go to pray to anyone else but _his_. She walked past The Father, The Mother, The Maiden, The Crone, The Smith, and The Stranger and stood at his altar, staring up at his statue with a set jaw and blazing blue eyes.

The only thing that she had going for her was those blue eyes if Jaime was honest.

Which he was, and probably cruel for it but who was going to shame him for that?

The little girl took a deep breath before slowly going to her knees and clasping her hands together, her shoulders trembling as she looked at the floor. Her straw-colored hair was tied up into a braid, messy, as if she ran or had not cared for it like some little girls did. Jaime found her odd, she was dirty while wearing an expensive dress. Like she had tripped and fallen in dirt. She looked more like a boy than a girl.

“Warrior, please protect my father in the oncoming pain and strife. Give him the strength to push through his grief, the courage to face what must be done. Please help him. _Please_ help him.” The ugly little girl choked on her tears, her hands clasping something between them as she prayed, no, begged on her knees before his altar. “Please give me the strength and courage to become what he needs. To be the son he had lost, to become the warrior that leads Tarth one day. I cannot do it alone. I’m afraid.” Jaime almost grew bored at that moment until the little girl raised her head and _glared_ at his statue. “I am all that he has left, and I am already a failure as a girl. If the gods are this cruel to make me this ugly, very well, but at least do me one gods damned favor and hear my plea, help him survive this pain and help me be the warrior I am needed to be.” With that, she got up, glaring at the statue, and leaving Jaime breathless as those eyes gazed back at him. He could see himself in those eyes. The eyes of one who needed to succeed, to be better than all those who died before him. “Let me be a warrior, give me your blessing, give me a chance to show them all I can succeed.” Silence descended over them both, but her gaze never faltered as she blatantly challenged The Warrior.

And The Warrior could not help himself, he responded.

* * *

_Why am I doing this? It won’t help. The gods don’t answer sniveling little girls._

Brienne’s mind whispered but Brienne heard the voice of her septa, belittling her, mocking her ugliness, and making sure she always knew she would never be loved by any man. She would be lucky to be married at all. It made Brienne even more determined to stare down the statue of The Warrior. She needed him so badly, she did not expect him to answer her in some major event.

Perhaps to just help her in a small way, to allow her to learn the way of the sword or morning star. She was tired of the boys mocking her constantly because of her looks and her septa mocking her horrible lady skills, or the lack thereof. She needed The Warrior. It had taken her nearly a month to gain the nerve to approach the temple, to pray before him. Also, she had snuck out when her septa had fallen asleep over her needlework while Brienne was doing her lady lessons. It was awful and tediously boring.

Her father was dead eyed, having lost her mother and brother, he was in constant pain but scarcely functioning as it was. She needed her father back on his feet. She was only eight, but she could see his pain, his loneliness for what it was.

It was heartbreak.

She hoped The Warrior would help him lead Tarth, the men surrounding her father were vipers hissing and circling him, he was in danger. Of what, she did not know but she had heard the servants whispering they were vying for her father to marry her to one of the hedge knights on the island as soon as her moon blood came. It scared her. Especially with their rotten teeth and eyes that turned sharp when she entered the room.

It was several minutes before Brienne finally let out a huff of anger at the silence in the temple and turned her back on the statue, feeling foolish but also nervous to face her angry septa. She would have to give a good excuse. Perhaps being honest was the best option…

“Not many would challenge The Warrior in such a way.” A voice called behind her and she whipped around to see a beautiful boy, only a few years older than her, smirking at her. Brienne went pale and gripped her skirts nervously before becoming flushed at his mocking smile. “Especially a _girl_.”

“I’m not just a girl, I am Brienne of Tarth.” Brienne replied insolently, glaring back at the beautiful boy. The boy was perfect, she had to wonder who he was, she knew everyone on her island. From the knights to the fisherman who only returned every few months to deliver supplies and fish. He wore a simple shirt, pants, and leather boots. His hair was gold and long, it reached his shoulders, his face unblemished with perfect white teeth and jade colored eyes. If Brienne were older, she was sure she would swoon over him, but she was Brienne and Brienne knew was not meant for beautiful in anyway. “Who are _you_?” Brienne could not help but challenge this boy, she was tired of being some weak girl who bowed her head to every boy and man in the room.

The boy paused, considering the question before responding, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m Jaime.” Brienne decided she did not like him when he mockingly bowed to her. “Lady Tarth.” Brienne proceeded to glare at him, unimpressed. Her expression must have said it because both his brows raised up in surprise. “I think you piqued The Warrior’s interest.” Brienne immediately grew confused as they both looked up at the statue, the statue with no face but armored while gripping a sword with the tip pressed into the ground, bracing it before him. “As I said, not many would challenge him. Everyone usually prays for him to give them his blessing, so they may become champions or legendary warriors.”

Brienne scoffed, “I am not everyone. I know me praying to him is dumb,” She glanced at him then back at the statue. “I just had to try at least once though.” Jaime turned back to her and smiled, amused, leaving Brienne confused before it turned to nervousness when he pointed at her clenched fist.

“What is that dumb girl?” Brienne hesitated while glaring at him from under her eyelashes after being insulted and unsure as she had completely forgotten it was in her hand until then.

“I…” The mocking eyebrow rose, leaving her flushed with anger until she opened it, palm up for him to see. Jaime stepped closer and peered down at her hand.

“It was my brother’s.” Brienne murmured, looking down as well to look at the golden necklace Galladon had always worn. It was The Warrior’s symbol, the sword, carved into a pendant.

“Was?” Jaime mused out, tilting his head.

“He died a few years ago…” Brienne was not sure why she was telling this rude boy but something about his eyes… it felt right. She had lost him when she was eight. She was now nearly thirteen. “Father told me he wanted to be a champion or a warrior that led his people with honor. He drowned before he could even begin his training.” Brienne choked, quickly closed her hand around the necklace and moved to put it back around her neck where she always wore it, hidden in her dress. A hand stopped her, and she blinked up to see the boy looking very serious meeting her gaze.

“Leave it at the altar.”

“W-what?” Brienne held it even tighter, horrified at the idea of leaving behind the last piece of her brother she had.

“If you want The Warrior to answer you and I think he will, you must leave behind something that is precious to you. When asking for such a blessing, something must be given in return.” Brienne felt tears rising in her eyes before she quickly wiped them away, angry.

“The Warrior doesn’t listen to hopeful stupid little girls who can never be warriors.” Brienne muttered, the words of her septa coming from her mouth. Brienne automatically yelped when the boy gripped her braid and tugged firmly. Her hand grabbed at his to make him stop. He tugged again to make their gazes meet.

“You don’t believe that, if you really want this, you will do it. You must sacrifice something, that is the warrior way.” Their gazes clashed, his determined and hers defiant. “Warriors are not just heroes but sacrifices all on their own. What you ask for is not easily earned. Your soul will be stained with blood while you achieve honor and glory. Give it to him or get nothing.” Jaime growled, leaning so close that she could see speckles in his jaded eyes. Brienne worked her mouth before giving a short nod, as much as it hurt her heart, she understood his words and meanings. Jaime’s expression relaxed and he let go of her hair and hand that gripped her necklace. Brienne sucked in a breath and stepped forward, past Jaime to the altar where she shakily set down the necklace onto it and bowed her head one last time.

“Please help me.” She whispered to herself before she felt a warm wind hit her face, startling her to raise her head. The boy was standing next to her, smiling in amusement.

“I think that’s your answer.” He mused out before awkwardly patting her arm when Brienne could not help but brighten and stare in hopeful awe up at the statue. “I think you should understand that The Warrior asks for several things, sacrifice but also dedication to him. You will need to pray to him before serious battles or trials of combat.” Brienne turned back to Jaime, confused as he continued on. “This isn’t just a given blessing; The Warrior needs to know that the person who he gives his blessing to is serious and will not abuse the gift.” Brienne barely could follow along her mind swirling. Why would someone abuse the gift from a god? Jaime seemed to see that and sighed at her in annoyance. “Brienne of Tarth… you will make The Warrior have severe head pains.” That earned him a glare and he returned it with a large grin. “Brienne, go to a temple, anywhere or procure an idol of The Warrior and pray to it when you need m-him. He will listen and help you.” Brienne slowly nodded before she jerked her head to a slamming door and saw one of her father’s men rushing in. Once he spotted her, he changed his directory and headed to her.

“My lady! What are you doing here? You have sent your father in a rage! You must back home at once!” Brienne could not even open her mouth to protest before her arm was grabbed and she was dragged out the door, she briefly struggled but submitted. Though it did not mean she did not turn to say goodbye to the strange boy. She had manners. Though when she looked, the boy was gone and what she did not notice was that her necklace was gone as well.

* * *

After bestowing his gift upon her, Brienne was back again, it had been nearly six months since she had visited him the first time and Jaime was mostly certainly watching, curious. Brienne had shyly commissioned a local wood carver to make a symbol of his godhood and she carried with her _everywhere_. It took the place of Galladon’s necklace, a pendant of wood that was not expensive but had deeper meaning, a champion that was linked to their god.

Jaime should not be prideful about it, but he could not help himself.

Especially with the fact that her weapons master in those short months had become especially impressed with her determination and stubbornness. After taking no as no proper answer, she had beaten verbally her father and her weapons master into submission with her barbed tongue. Jaime could not help but snicker behind his hand as he watched her through the time of those six months. While she could not see him, Jaime watched over his future champion.

She needed it. Especially from her septa and the boys who came after her since she began to pick up a practice sword. While they could beat her into the dirt currently, the glint in Brienne’s eyes did not go away or fade but instead it became like a roaring wildfire that was blue. Brienne was not taking defeat as the proper answer to make her stop. It was encouraging her so she may one day beat them into the dirt and laugh in their faces. Though, Jaime doubted she would laugh, maybe smile with those wide teeth of hers or just leave them there like the scum they were for thinking they were better than his champion or their lady.

Jaime also knew that humans did not live long but Jaime was becoming attached to her. Especially since she had begun with her new necklace to grip it before every practice and whisper _please help me become stronger today_ before she started her practicing with her weapons master. Jaime could not help but reach up to the hold necklace now around his throat and grip it tight, answering her call as best as he could.

When Tyrion had spotted the necklace around his neck when he had visited him, he had only smirked and sipped his ambrosia after raising it in quiet cheers for him. Jaime after that had tucked it under his armor and clothing, he did not want Brienne to be targeted by other gods who may enjoy using their own champions as playthings to hurt other champions. Cersei was known to do that, especially with his champions. She had done it several ways. Making them give up their mantel, their future, and him for several reasons. Maiming their bodies, having them horribly slaughtered to damnation, and sending women their way to seduce them to get them pregnant and force his champions to set down the sword to care for their babes. Jaime had fumed at Cersei, who had only smiled drunkenly behind her goblet with a small wink of more to come. Jaime was going to hide Brienne as long as possible, to make sure she earned her way to knighthood and a title that will be sung across the ages during her life and centuries to come.

Jaime was suddenly brought back to the current moment when Brienne slipped into the temple to visit him since nearly a year ago. By the look on her face, her septa had tipped her over the edge. Jaime was surprised, usually she prayed over the pendant she wore around her neck.

“…Jaime? Are you here?” The Warrior froze, his eyes widening in realization that she was not here for him as a god but for _him_.

While Jaime knew she did not know she was speaking to the same person the first time, it made his chest hurt.

“Jaime?” She called, louder this time, before freezing as she heard steps. Before anyone could hear her, he sent his powers out to deflect the servants of the temple, to keep them away from being disturbed. Once he was sure it worked, Jaime quickly formed himself in the boy she had met before and popped out from behind the statue of The Mother, poking her in the shoulder to startle her. What he had not expected was her to squeak and turn around to smack him in the face as hard as possible in her defense.

Jaime supposed that was only fair since he frightened her.

He just could not believe that anyone would be brazen enough to hit a god and expect to live long, even if she did not know what he truly was.

“Jaime!” Brienne hissed before promptly kicking him in the shin as hard as she could. For being a kid… she had a mean right hook and kicking ability.

He was vaguely proud of his future champion.

“Ow!” Jaime hissed as she kicked him again, this time right in the perfect spot for a human to probably fall over in pain. The girl narrowed her eyes at him and stuck her chin up.

“That should teach you.” Leaving Jaime agoge at how insolent she was.

He was not as proud then.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some lady? Where are your manners?” Jaime grumbled, dodging a half-hearted kick to his other shin. Brienne’s expression tightened at that and she looked away, annoyed but also the flash of hurt in her eyes made Jaime bite his tongue.

“I’m no lady.” Brienne muttered, not meeting his gaze as she spoke. Jaime could not help the flash of guilt at that before he decided that perhaps being a god just was not about giving gifts but perhaps more?

“Perhaps not.” Jaime agreed, earning a heated glare that promised violence. “I think you’re meant to be a knight.” Brienne’s expression turned to befuddlement before consideration, chewing on her large bottom lip, Jaime took that as encouragement. “You’re a woman, so? Perhaps its time you show you’re not meant to be a lady but better than any knight before you.” The words were the right thing to say because the girl instantly brightened, and a smile crept onto her face as she seemed to picture her future before her expression became grave.

“You… you really think so?” A look of vulnerability met his gaze and his gave a short nod with a smug grin.

_I will help you every step of the way._

That was when an idea came to him. Tyrion did say when he was not sulking or being an ass, Jaime could come up with the stupidest ideas as a god.

“I can tell, and I’ll help.” He could not help the grin that stretched over his face at her confusion. “How about I train with you? That way you and I both prove them all wrong.”

“How by the gods would that help?” This girl had a mouth on her with no restraint to her thoughts.

“A boy earning his own knighthood and supporting a lady becoming a knight? Think about it, my lady.” He teased the last part just to earn a glare. He found himself enjoying teasing her. “You won’t be alone, you’ll have me.” Jaime knew instantly that was the right thing to say when her expression turned from glaring to hopeful.

“You’ll… you’ll be my friend?” Oh, that hit him in the heart. Of course, that was what she saw in that, she was alone already with only vindictive septa and a distant father. She needed to know she had someone with her. Who believed in her.

“Do I have to keep addressing you as my lady?” He replied dryly, just to get that heated glare again. “Then yes, every step of the way, your friend will be with you. Your compatriot, your comrade, and your biggest supporter.” Brienne grinned, showing her large teeth that Jaime could not help but find charming, but it was quickly gone as something came to her mind.

“What will I tell my father?” Ah, Jaime had not thought of that. He would have to ask Tyrion for help.

“Worry not, I will figure it out. Just head home and come back in a few days, I’ll go back with you then when I’ve created a story.” Brienne seemed not to take that well as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Who are you, Jaime?” And Jaime almost answered.

_I was The Golden Lion, Jaime Lannister._

Instead, he answered with, “I am just Jaime, no one really.” Brienne frowned before suddenly reaching to touch his arm.

“You are to me.” With that, Brienne gave him a large smile before she left him there, gaping like an idiot.

Jaime was not really sure why she believed him or suddenly trust him with a snap of the fingers, but it made him feel warm inside.

When the groaning door closed with a firm thud, Jaime let out a harsh breath in realization. He was going to act like a human again. Not just a human but a human _child_! What had he been thinking?!

He needed Tyrion, badly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is getting out of hand

“Pardon me, Jaime,” Jaime gestured for The Crone to continue, “but what were you _thinking_?!” Jaime winced behind his cup of ambrosia, though he could not help the little grin he gave to the lip of the cup so Tyrion would be blind to it. He took a long savoring sip, pondering when he would next get a drink of the gods before he looked at the irritated god across from the table who was staring daggers into his head.

“I suppose I was not. Though…” Jaime tapped the cup to the table, considering his words. “Something about this little girl calls to me, Tyrion. I feel…” He hesitated before continuing. “I feel I am staring back through her eyes. I think she perhaps is something more.” He gave the small man a look, knowing he would understand his hidden meaning.

By the expression on his face, he did, before it twisted into that face Jaime knew so well when the man was beginning to plot and consider all the paths before them. The last time a god had been replaced or found was them. A god could die, usually by self-sacrifice or blessing the next person to godhood. Jaime’s predecessor had grown tired of it but also ached to be back on the battlefield one last time. Jaime had taken up the mantle a few years later after his death, it was probably why war had been so brutal in those years of his predecessor’s death, absolute chaos, and lack of morality amongst men. 

“Who could it be?” Jaime murmured under his breath, rubbing his beard roughly. Tyrion peered at his cup like it had all the answers to this world and beyond. The only one they could possibly consider was The Maiden, she had been around for so long, far beyond any of them currently and she was beginning to grow weak after thousands of years. Eventually they all just burned out without prevention. One day he would be gone and so would Tyrion, replaced by another.

“The Maiden?” Jaime snorted shaking his head vehemently. 

“That ugly little girl? By the gods no. She could be me!” They both froze and stared at each other, wondering. “I am not dying anytime soon, Tyrion.” Jaime scoffed, quickly looking away as anxiety rushed through his veins and into his gut.

Maybe it was The Maiden.

“We shall see,” Tyrion was now peering at him, his mismatched eyes narrowed before he leaned back and crossed his short legs, “now… tell me about this idiotic plan you got yourself into so I may help save your sorry arse.” Jaime let out a soft breath and began again, describing it all to The Crone.

\---

In a few short days Brienne arrived back to guide him to her home, to The Evenstar, her father. Tyrion had forced him to recite their prepared lies and how to convince the man who would either accept him into his home or cast him out this day. Tyrion had already convinced the priests of the temple he had been abandoned to their care as a baby by an unknown young woman who could have a bastard child and they had raised him since. They believed he had always wanted to be a knight and help others; his name was just Jaime. He was no one who wanted to be someone.

Jaime could only hope this worked well to convince him. 

They had also planned he would grow with Brienne, so they could train together but also keep his original face. He had joked that he would be the beauty and Brienne would be the beast, Tyrion had not taken that kindly and Jaime had received a cup to the forehead for it. Jaime grumbled but he had granted it had been unkind to speak of a girl and someone like Tyrion who could not help what they were born with.

When Brienne finally returned, he had little with him, just the clothes on his back and the necklace she gave him hidden safely under his shirt. The priests said goodbye to him, making sure to sell it to Brienne who remained sharp eyed on the interactions before dragging him along to the castle. 

“Always be respectful.” Jaime nodded, smirking in amusement at her lecture that she clearly prepared beforehand. “Always be honest.” He gave a tap to his heart, earning a tiny whack on the arm for the mockery. “My papa does not take kindly to leeches.” Brienne scolded him, frowning with her large lips twisted. 

“Do you even know what a leech is?” Jaime snarked back, making Brienne glare harder and stomp on his boot. Jaime faked a wince. 

“A leech is a blood sucker.” Brienne declared to him; her chin stuck high in the air. Jaime partially wondered how he got himself into this mess before reminding himself quickly this is what he wanted, what he needed. It felt right.

“Yes, my lady.” Brienne snorted mannishly before she waved to the guards at the open gate, greeting them as they arrived at the castle. When they entered the courtyard, Jaime immediately spotted the lord. Jaime had seen everything before, exploring and considering the large man she called father and who he had given strength to as she had asked.

With his blessing and seeing him as god, he had not anticipated in a child’s eye how large the man was.

By the gods he was a monster.

He towered like an ancient tree and his presence made Jaime want to shrivel up as his sharp blue-eyed gaze landed on them both. Brienne had Jaime by the arm, gripping tightly as if he would try to escape.

Jaime imagined it for a moment.

He could imagine himself facing off this man on the battlefield and probably getting his skull crushed with his bare hands. Currently he was barking orders to his men that were training, looming like death upon the back of their necks. It made him wonder just how tall and big Brienne would become as she turned into a woman with the strength of her training and his blessing as a warrior.

Jaime could feel a thrill of excitement enter him at the idea. Perhaps he would finally have a challenger to his legacy but first, Jaime looked at Brienne who stared up at her father, he would have to get her there first.

“Papa, this is Jaime.” Brienne pushed Jaime forward, making him stumble.

Little wench.

“M’lord.” He greeted, suddenly nervous as he partially bowed, though it was shaky and rather awful. Lord Tarth stared down at him; his eyes narrowed.

“Why do you bring him before me, little Brienne?” The man’s gaze turned to his daughter and from ice they turned to soft warm waters, making Jaime ponder in confusion how such a harsh man could be soft so quickly. Brienne bit her bottom lip before continuing on, her voice wavering like Jaime’s nerves.

“He’s my friend, papa. He needs somewhere to go.” Lord Tarth snorted and a hand slid to the pommel of his sword, making Jaime saw it. “He wants to be a knight, just like me! He said we could train together.” That caught the man’s attention.

“You think a girl should train like a boy?” His voice was automatically clipped, staring him down and leaving Jaime floundering briefly in fear.

“Y-yes, m’lord. Why shouldn’t she?” Jaime managed out, practically wheezing it. “Esp-especially if she dreams of it.” Brienne nodded hard, nearly snapping her head down to her collarbone as he spoke. It gave Jaime the nerve to stare back at Lord Tarth. “A lady and a nobody becoming knights? It could be remembered for the ages.” Brienne and Jaime smiled at each other, hope in Brienne’s gaze.

He must have answered in some partial correct way because Lord Tarth grunted and took his hand off his pommel, gesturing for them both to follow as the cold hair from the sea hit both children and made them shiver.

“Come, we shall speak further before I decide _anything_.” Brienne grinned toothily at that, beaming as she practically clung to Jaime and dragged him forward.

“This is good!” Brienne whispered in his ear, nearly jumping up and down. “He likes you!”

That was liking him? By the gods, he needed some ambrosia.

\----

It takes Jaime an entire _month_ to convince Lord Selwyn of Tarth that he is genuine, and he is not after his daughter’s hand or her bed. 

Ew. 

And by the gods, they are kids! Especially Brienne. By his horrified reaction at the idea of it, Lord Tarth seemed to realize he was not interested in that but more of Brienne as a friend. Therefore, he could be with Brienne as her companion, to go to her lessons, to be with her as they were finally allowed practice swords, having fun and but also being drilled into by the weapon master. He had been given rooms a few doors down from Brienne’s as her companion, slowly trusted but still watched like he was planning on hurting the future Evenstar of Tarth. He was with her constantly and as time went on, he found himself enjoying her company and finding her intelligent but also beyond stubborn to admit when she was wrong. She was determined, she wanted to be the best and Jaime enjoyed prodding her to do just that. Although, that also made her determined to challenge him, not just in the courtyard but also his own lessons with her.

When Jaime first opened a book, he was being tested for his skills in reading, it occurred to Jaime he had not read in centuries and the way of writing was different. The words swam and moved right before his eyes and he felt himself go red in embarrassment. Brienne’s mentor had taken it upon himself to teach Jaime properly words, reading, and writing. Brienne was far too advanced for him. It was mortifying to admit.

The practice sword felt awkward and wrong, like he had no muscles nor memory of how to fight with a sword. It had left him concerned but also determined to master it with Brienne. Her reaction at handling her first practice sword on the first day left Jaime warm but also bubbling with excitement to practice with her.

The only problem was the fact her septa was a cruel bitch that made Jaime see red.

When Brienne had gone on and on about her excitement as they sat together in front of the fire after a long day of lessons and finally sword practice but also aching like they had both been beaten, excited for the next day, that was when her hovering septa had struck.

“My little lady,” The old septa purred, “you do not belong with the men in the courtyard but at your future husband’s side, with your future children.” Jaime tensed, “Not some frivolous practice with men where you will never succeed. You are a child playing a hopeless fool filled with hopeless dreams.” Brienne had been crushed, bursting into tears she fled to her own rooms. The way the septa grinned secretly and ignored the poor boy who no one would believe at the accusation towards her, Jaime had decided then. Especially when she snickered and walked out. That he was going to get rid of her.

And he did.

Jaime the next day, after Brienne refused to leave her rooms, followed the old bitter mule around until the opportunity struck, he had nearly all day followed her like her own shadow until she stood at the top of the stairs after visiting Brienne, making her cry further.

No one had been around when he pushed her down the stairs of the tower.

Sadly, she lived but broken her hips and so much more, leaving her bedridden for the probable future. Her replacement, a sweet younger woman by the name of Septa Mertyl, seemed much more supportive of Brienne, whispering excitedly in the oncoming days about her sword practice with open awe and support, making Jaime smile smugly at a job well done.

With her gone and wounded by her _fall_ , Brienne bloomed in the months that followed, and Jaime knew he had made the right decision. Now, he eyed the boys who were currently snickering at the edge of the courtyard, he had some others to take care of.


	3. Chapter 3

Ten Years Later…

“This is ridiculous!” Jaime spat, baring his teeth in anger at the stupid girl who had become his dearest friend and the only person who truly looked at him and saw a person. This same girl was currently grinding her teeth, staring out at the sea as they sat on top of their horses watching a storm approach from the sea. “Brienne… he doesn’t love you.” Jaime persisted it, gripping the reins of his horse that was more interested at the grass at its hooves than the person who was pissed off on its back.

“He is the future king. I will happily go to war to help him succeed.” Brienne murmured, not meeting his gaze as he huffed angrily.

“The man is more interested in chasing a handsome man then two dozen gorgeous rich women begging for his hand in marriage, Brienne. He will never love you.” Jaime insisted, disgusted with Brienne who was doe eyed for a man who had danced with her _once_ when she had been mocked by several boys at her coming of age ball. Jaime hadn’t saved the day like he had wanted that night, he had been stuck hiding away from greedy girls who wanted to flaunt their newly grown bosoms at the handsome boy who was the companion of the ugly daughter of the lord.

“Tarth is allied to the Baratheon’s, I must answer the call, Jaime.” Her soulful eyes turned to him, begging for his understanding and blessing to go, perhaps for him to even join her on her quest to follow a man who would never even glance her way. 

Could she not understand he was right there? Could she not understand the one man who truly cared about her had grown up with her? Who had seen her covered in muck and shit still thought she was beyond amazing? Who had seen her break bones and laughed with her through the pain? Who had helped her beat up the boys who mocked her ever since she was little, by fist and sword? Who had helped her become a proper champion of The Warrior?

The Warrior only a short while ago had come to the realization he was in love with a mortal and realized he was not loved in return.

It felt he had been stabbed in the heart and abandoned to rot.

“You must not answer shit!” Jaime spat, tossing his head back to make the curls of his rich gold hair stop tickling his face. Brienne bit her bottom lip, looking down to her gloved hands. “You are the soon to be Evenstar, a warrior all on her own who doesn’t need some pathetic little man to pine after who will never return your love!” Brienne’s expression contorted to anger and her jaw set.

_Shit._

“I am well aware I will never be loved, Jaime. I am ugly woman with big lips, ugly crooked teeth, more man than woman and who will always be _wench to you_!” Brienne spat at him; her straw blond hair wild in the whipping wind as she stared at him with venom. Jaime felt he had been struck.

“That is not true, Brienne. _I_ love you.” Jaime croaked out, pained.

Her expression softened right before the verbal blow that hit him right in the gut and broke ribs, his breath ripped from him.

“I love you too, my brother.”

 _I don’t want you to love me like a brother, I want you to love me like you love that stupid little man, Renly._ His heart hissed, fury entering him.

“Apparently not enough to listen to me then,” Jaime snarled, jerking the reins to head back to the castle, Brienne raised a hand to stop him only to jerk back from his next biting words. “Very well, go to your beloved Renly Baratheon but do not expect me or The Warrior to be at your side when you cry his name in your first battle. You are on your own.” With that, he reached beneath his clothing and ripped off the pendant he had religiously carried, hidden from view all these years and tossed it at her feet. “He will not support a warrior, a knight, who so foolishly goes to her death when she doesn’t truly believe in what she fights for.” He was gone before she could respond, snapping the reins for the horse to head back at full charge, leaving her there at the cliff they grew up standing on top of, playing, fighting, practicing, and being forever together so she may realize she was all alone again. For the first time in a decade. She had only herself to blame for the next few years of hell she went through.

\----

Jaime did not see her off when she left, he hadn’t even spoken to her after leaving her there on the cliff, Lord Tarth tried to convince him to go with her but someone had to stay and guard Tarth while their future Evenstar abandoned them for some foolish needy pitiful love for a man who only liked men in his bed. Her father eventually had given up a year after she had left, Jaime and he had become close, like a son and father but Brienne would always be his child, his little girl who could beat ten men in combat.

He was a stupid man and god.

It was probably why he had not rejoined the gods since Brienne had left. Too humiliated and hurt to face The Crone, who would accept him back with gentle words, The Mother, who would snicker behind her hand and the Father who would look down his long nose at him, annoyed and ever thinking he was the stupidest god of the Seven. 

Which he was.

Jaime could not handle the shame or pain they would inflict, so he stayed with her father, through the years. Jaime never received letters from Brienne, only her father did from his child, telling him what has happened. Jaime and he never spoke of it. Though, Jaime did bribe the scribe to sneak him the letters and messages from the crows. Brienne had seen Renly killed in battle, had joined the Starks and pledged her allegiance to them to protect the children. The Starks had been slaughtered at The Red Wedding. Now she was attempting to find the last of the Starks to have the North brought back under their rule properly. She never seemed to ask about Jaime and that was what truly hurt him, that she seemed to have forgotten him entirely once she left. Beyond absorbed in trying to earn her knighthood like the ignorant child she was. She followed the code like it was the word of the gods itself. It made Jaime grumble as he was right there, why couldn’t she just listen to him?

Until one day, he received a letter. It was a childish scrawl that was hurried if not panicked. It was from a fishing village on the main coast, nearby by only a few days by ship.

_Lady Brienne of Tarth had been hurt, come at once. She cries for you in her fever, I do not who else to send this to. Please hurry._

Jaime had already packed and retrieving his horse when Lord Tarth had caught up to him finally, having grown slowly frail by sickness of the bones. Selwyn Tarth had simply giving him a medicine pouch filled with plants from the maester. Nothing else needed to be said as he took his horse onto the ship and sailed directly after, determined to only return with Brienne or not return at all. Jaime would have dragged the maester with him if the man had not died several weeks ago from sickness of the mind.

When he did finally find her, she was in high fever with nothing but on her body, just stick and bones, not the muscular woman who towered over him with fire blue eyes. Her squire, Podrick had been the one to write to him. The chunk of her cheek that had been ripped off her face had become infected, red, and filled with pus. 

He had taken a breath and began his work, she had begun to scream almost immediately fighting him with all of her strength as he drained the awful gaping wound, making his gag and beg for her to stop fighting. He was there, he was protecting her. She was safe. Podrick remained steadfast, helping him every step of the way. Loyal as a royal hound. The red-haired girl with them had fled the room, Podrick muttered she was fine, just a dramatic child. Jaime quickly forgot about her to focus on Brienne.

As he poured steaming hot water on the wound, her eyes had opened and stared into his own, recognition clear even though the fever had her mind.

“Jaime…” She moaned while gurgling, reaching for him pitifully, he could answer by grabbing her hand and pressing it to his cheek, pleading with her silently to remain with him as he continued his work. “Jaime you were right… you were always right…” She sobbed out, her eyes filling with tears. “The Warrior abandoned me, he abandoned me Jaime and I deserved it. I deserved it.” He shushed her then feeling like she had torn his heart out and crushed it with her iron grip.

“No, wench. No, he failed you, he did not abandon you. He failed his most loyal champion. His most bravest, his most kindest, and his most faithful. He failed you Brienne, as I did. I should have gone with you; I should have followed you. I am so sorry.” He had responded, his voice cracking as tears made her go blurry in his vision. He bowed his head, sobbing as he clutched her hand to his cheek in desperate need of her touch.

“Stay, Jaime. Please stay.” Brienne sobbed; her fever having taken her mind.

“Always, Brienne. Always.” 

When she finally passed out from agony, her wound had been cleaned and given poppy to ease the pain and her fever. They had covered the ripped wound with dressings and now they could only wait, wait to see if she would make it to return home, where she belonged.

“My lord…” Jaime stopped the squire right there, snorting.

“I am no lord, I am only Jaime.” He muttered, sitting at Brienne’s side, wiping away her sweat that beaded on her face with gentle movements, his gaze never straying far from her. There was pause before suddenly something was shoved into his face and he stopped short, confused at what stared at him.

It was the wooden pendant he had carried for over a decade, hidden safely under his clothing until he had thrown it at her in spite and anger.

“She told me to give this to you if she didn’t make it, to make you understand it was really her that sent us to you to protect.” Podrick mumbled. Jaime hesitantly took it from him and rubbed the faded symbol of his godhood, making him swear softly. 

She had kept it. All this time she had kept it when he had abandoned her as her friend and her god.

He was a pathetic excuse of a being.

He could not even interfere now to save her, it all depended on her and her alone.

“I am going nowhere, Podrick. Neither is Brienne. She will make it, I swear by the gods, she will make it.” The boy didn’t seem to believe him but he sat with him as they watched and waited, holding their breath for their lady to return to them.


End file.
